


Pebbles for the Gods

by hoopdedoop



Category: Touhou Project
Genre: Gen, Touhou Secret Santa 2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-09 00:10:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8868469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hoopdedoop/pseuds/hoopdedoop
Summary: The Amanojaku kneeled by the altar, but whatever she could offer, it wouldn't be enough.
However, in the hands of Bishamonten, anything can be a treasure.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello. It's that time of the year again.
> 
> This year, I'm kapiten70’s Secret Santa! We were matched, no doubt, in our love for the th12 cast and the Myouren Temple. Reading the wishlist there were not too many specifics beyond just characters and relationships, except for one thing that I very quickly decided I wanted to work with.
> 
> The theme of this story is "Vaisravana vs the Amanojaku"!
> 
> I did my best to try and incorporate other keywords and relationships that were mention in the wishlist however. Nazshou, muraichi and maminue interactions are here and there, what was harder was themes like "comedy" and "fluff", but hopefully that is acceptable seeing as a versus story makes it pretty hard to make things too easy-going.
> 
> I had a pretty strict time limit for working on this, but I had a lot of fun, and I hope it fulfills at least some the hopes you had for your gift!
> 
> Brief glossary:  
> \- Kubera is the Hindu equivalent of Bishamonten, or Vaisravana  
> \- Yaksha, seen in Hindu, Buddhist and Jain texts, known as Yasha in Japan, are nature-spirits not unlike youkai  
> \- Mt. Sumeru is the mountain where Bishamonten is said to live, alongside the other 12 heavenly kings  
> \- When signing a letter in Japanese, you might use just the first kanji in your name, similar to an initial

 

 

 

 

# Pebbles for the Gods

 

 

 

The ice cold water splashed the back of her head hard, hitting the ground as she shivered. A few drops escaped down the back of her neck, which was bad enough. Her thin robe was already slightly damp.

The air was still and it hadn’t snowed that day- at least not yet. While the air was freezing, the numbness didn’t feel so bad. Shou still couldn’t help but shake her wet head vigorously. Luckily she didn’t have that much hair, even if what she had was thick and unruly.

“You should be fine like that,” She heard the bucket be placed down behind her.

“Really?”

The snow had been cleared behind the house but a thin layer of ice had frozen in its place.

“I could have heated some water, you know.”

Shou ran her fingers through her hair, trying to feel any residue of soap. “No, I don’t mind.” She responded.

A snicker. “Suit yourself, then.”

Steps went from ground to wood. The door closed. Shou held her face in her hands, and burrowed her claws into her brow. She was feeling better, even as she still shivered slightly from the cold. Her headache was mostly gone, but she could feel the pressing tension just waiting to rise up.

At least she was clean now, and the air was as fresh as it would ever be. The snow in Muenzuka laid completely untouched, and on this sunny day it appeared as if the ground had been wrapped in a sheet of light. Shou reached for a blanket and started drying her hair. Steam rose from shack's narrow, slit-like windows.

Nazrin was heating water for her anyhow. Perhaps she was making tea.

Shou spent another moment absorbing the silence. Not a single bird in sight. No-one came here, even the sinners who wished to end their lives stayed clear of Muenzuka on days like this. When her fingers were numb and the sun burned on her face, she stood, and walked indoors.

 

 

 

An open robe was thrown over her head where she sat on the wooden floor. It was dry but crisp and cold. Nazrin passed Shou, stepping into her shoes down below on the bare stomped earth. “The rest should have dried too by now. I didn’t check.”

“Thank you.” Shou was already putting it on. It was a more damp coldness indoors. The steam that rose from the stove seemed to stick to every surface. 

Nazrin had approached the stove. Shou didn’t register quite what she was doing, watching the outline of her narrow shoulders, admiring her form, tired.

“So?” Nazrin asked.

Shou held back a sigh, but rolled her head to the side. “Ichirin and the captain were sent to work in the village. Going door to door, on account of the new years’ sermon.”

“I suppose they envy you, then?”

Shou smiled. “No, they’re too simple for that.”

“Also because, well,” Shou saw that Nazrin was pouring the tea. “I will be the one holding the sermon.”

Hand on the tea pot lid, Nazrin turned around. Their eyes met with wordless communication.

“Hijiri’s got you all working, I see.” Nazrin picked up the tray.

“It’s nothing I haven’t done before.” Shou moved out of the way, making room for the two of them.

Nazrin tipped her head in response. “I suppose.”

“It’s a bit sudden. But I’ll manage.”

“I’m sure you will.” Nazrin responded, sincerely. It gave Shou a small burst of confidence.

“It _is_ with rather short-notice though.” Nazrin felt the tea cup. It was still piping hot, steam slowly rising to the ceiling. “I guess that’s why she’s got your friends working so hard.”

“Actually, it’s been in the works for a while.” Shou corrected her. “Somethings have just been stalling. We got pamphlets this year, and the printing took longer than expected. Also because we needed to decide the design so far ahead of time. We couldn’t make it.”

“Huh.” Conversation hardly ever stormed between them, but Shou didn’t particularly mind. Rather, she preferred it this way. “I didn’t hear anything about that. But I suppose I didn’t ask.”

Shou laughed. “I assure you, nothing’s out of the ordinary.”

They held the new years’ sermon every year, on new years’ day.

“It’s just...” Shou suddenly felt a tad timid. “I’m holding it this year. At least, that’s what Hijiri asked of me.”

“It’s a good opportunity.” Nazrin imposed this idea, and Shou couldn’t help but agree- Although it was perhaps against her nature to think those sort of things independently.

“You can collect faith like this.” Nazrin was often quick to remind Shou of her purpose, not that it was necessary. “And not just for the temple either.”

“Yes, exactly.”

“So, what’s the theme this time?”

Running her hand through her still-damp hair, Shou shook her head. She had just been about to tell her. “You know, it’s funny, actually...”

 

 

 

 

 

 

  
The snow squeaked under their shoes. Unlike the forest paths the shrine grounds were mostly cleared, and Reimu was still working on it.

When she saw them, her expression scrunched up. She violently shoved the shovel into the barricade-like wall of snow that had accumulated around the path, where it stood up straight.

Murasa and Ichirin met her halfway.

“What business could you ever have with me?” Reimu didn’t mask her irritation.

“Oh, it is nothing but some humble seasons’ greetings.” Ichirin responded somewhat smugly.

Reimu crossed her arms.

“Actually, ma’am, we have a bit of a favor.” Murasa said, but Ichirin cut in in front of her.

“Hey, now, don’t say that.” She snickered.

Reimu probably would have preferred some seasons’ greetings.

Ichirin handed Reimu a sheet of paper from the book bag she was carrying. Wearing fingerless gloves, her fingers were red from the cold. “As per every year, you’re invited to the new years’ day sermon!”

Having barely even skimmed the text, Reimu responded; “I have no memory of ever being invited before.”

“Oh, everyone’s always invited.” Murasa reassured her. “It’s just the first year we’re distributing these. See, attendance has been quite low.”

“Yeah, I can’t possibly imagine.”

Ichirin laughed. “Yeah, it gets hard to stay awake when you’ve been up all night!”

The pamphlet was simple; naturally black and white, the texture of the paper somewhat flakey. The design and layout was sober rather than smart. Reading scripture in printed letters felt strange.

Reimu wasn’t particularly focused. It took her a second to catch the title.

“Hmm.” She had had an inkling something was up the moment she had spotted Murasa and Ichirin come up the stairs. “Bishamonten and the Amanojaku, huh?”

“Yeah.” Ichirin shrugged. “Hijiri came up with it. And Toramaru’s holding it this year.”

“And you expect to attend this?” Reimu asked sharply. She was insulted.

“It’s an invitation.” Murasa responded calmly. “It’s up to you what you do.”

“Actually, I was thinking you might put it up somewhere so people who come for news years’ celebration can see it?” Ichirin smiled cheekily, as if that would somehow help.

“Now, why in the world would I do that?” Reimu slapped the pamphlet with the back of her hand. “I have a hard enough time to get people to come here in the first place.”

“Hey, it’s in support of your agenda.” Ichirin snapped back. “It’s a story about a youkai who meets god, and leaves a lifestyle of wrong-doings behind them. Why wouldn’t you want to promote something like that? It would just help your cause.”

“How in the world would a youkai-sympathizing story like that further my agenda?!” Reimu crumpled the paper up in her hands. “This is just your twisted youkai propaganda!”

Ichirin suffocated a laugh. “Alright. If you say so-”

“No, honestly. Why wouldn’t this be helpful to you?” Murasa asked. “I implore you, and quite earnestly so.”

“Earnestly? Do you even know what that means?” Reimu was losing her patience. “Youkai can’t be trusted. Which is why they can’t be saved either, which is why they are to be exterminated.”

She shook her head. “I’m not promoting your sermon. And that’s final.”

“Alright,” Ichirin said, a bit too quickly. She hadn’t really expected Reimu to play along.

“In fact, I’d advice against doing this at all. As the older religious establishment.”

“Uh,” Ichirin looked offended. _“As the older r-”_

Murasa cut her off. “I’m sorry, what do you mean?”

“You weren’t born yesterday, were you?” Reimu turned back to get her shovel. Signaling she wanted the conversation to be over, she still kept talking. Contradictory, as usual. “It hasn’t been that long, you know? And Byakuren herself was there, she should know.”

“Tsk,” Ichirin wouldn’t give in. “You’re being paranoid.”

Reimu’s anger blossomed up. She tore the shovel up from the ground. “If the Amanojaku gives you trouble, you’re on your own!”

“What can she do?” Ichirin taunted. “Ain’t she just a weakling?”

“Yeah, I really don’t think it should be a problem?” Murasa took a more relaxed stance.

Reimu just looked at them, shaking her head.

“Good-bye,” she said, dismissing them. “We’re done talking.”

“Fine by me.” Ichirin turned curtly, but not without a smile.

“Good day to you.” Tipping her hat, Murasa followed suit.

Reimu paused as she watched them go, but eventually continued to shovel the snow angrily.

Her intuition usually wasn’t wrong.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Heading down the stairs, Murasa and Ichirin chatted.

“She sounded pretty sure of herself,” Murasa commented.

“She always talks like that though,” Ichirin could brag with more than a little more experience when it came to dealing with Reimu.

“If you say so.” Murasa shrugged.

“Look,” Ichirin swayed from side to side, smiling, “Nothing will happen.”

She raised her hands to her temples, grinning though her pain. “Ahh. My head is killing me. Can we, like, take a break?”

“Well, we still got a nice big stack of those pamphlets, don’t we?” Murasa laughed.

“Roll ‘em up in a bottle, send them down the river,” Ichirin rolled her head from side to side. “Who’s even gonna notice?”

Murasa tackled Ichirin in the side. “Hey now, if Hijiri found out you’d be lucky to survive. Remember why we’re doing this in the first place?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah...” Ichirin mumbled. She hadn’t been serious. Not fully, at least.

“A break won’t hurt though, I guess.”

“I need a drink.” Ichirin complained.

Murasa took her by the arm and picked up their pace. “Oh, you’ll live. I’m sure.”

 

 

Marisa came by in the afternoon. Swooshing down as usual, but with a high tempo towards the shrine. She hated the cold. When she saw the crumpled up paper ball on the ground though, she became curious. It was a windless day, and there had hardly been any shrine visitors on a day like this. 

As Reimu poured the tea, Marisa was reading the pamphlet.

“Do me a favor and take that with you when you leave, would you?” Reimu asked.

“Sure,” Marisa responded absent-mindedly. “So you’re not going, are you?”

“Now, why in the world would I?” Reimu retorted and Marisa dropped the subject.

Finger travelling across the paragraphs, Marisa stopped at the margin.

“Huh,” she said. “Did you see this was printed at the Suzunaan?”

_“Wh-”_ Reimu ripped the pamphlet out from under Marisa’s hand. “Give me that!”

Reimu checked and double-checked. Marisa was right.

_“Are you--”_ She sighed. “Kidding me?”

“Nothing’s ever simple, is it?” Marisa grinned.

Reimu’s pride would no doubt keep her from acting, but now she was forced to hold up-keep on this.

 

 

 

 

 

  
Eager steps halted in the hallway outside the dining room. The door slid open inconspicuously, and Murasa peeked over Ichirin’s shoulder before they went in.

A gigglesnort shared between them, they fell silent when Byakuren looked at them.

“And here I thought,” She was mild, suspiciously so, “That you two would never show.”

“Our sincere apologies, Lady Hijiri, ma’am,” Murasa offered as they hurriedly settled into their seats.

Ichirin joined her hands in prayer.

“You could have prayed with rest of us if you had been on time.” Byakuren smiled.

Nue was tempted to break the silence that had fallen in the room with a glance towards Mamizou, but Byakuren caught her in the act, shutting her down with her gaze.

“Cross my heart, sister,” Ichirin said as earnestly as she could, “We were working just up until now.”

“Of course you were.” Byakuren smiled. Promptly shut up, Ichirin and Murasa decided to focus on eating.

Shou’s seat was empty, but no-one spoke of it.

Cooking and cleaning was all a joint effort.

Knuckles glowing redder than ever before, Ichirin washed the dishes in a bucket of ice-cold melted snow. Murasa handed her the soapy trays and bowls. Towel across her shoulders, Nue dried the wet and clean dishes with minimum effort.

Ichirin and Murasa were chatting without discretion, making Nue feel just a tad invisible.

“Not sure what you expected, I mean--”

“Yeah? It’s more like I can’t believe how hard she is to deal with.”

“Didn’t you brag about how you’ve dealt with her over and over in the past?” Murasa jeered at Ichirin who didn’t offer much of a response.

“Whatever. If the Amanojaku causes trouble, it is her job. Right?”

“I dunno. She said it wasn’t.” Murasa handed Ichirin another plate to rinse. Nue listened carefully.

“Like that one time with the oni.” Murasa had remembered only just now. “She didn’t lift a finger that one time.”

Nue hadn’t forgotten about that, either.

“Yeah, but like, I mean--” Ichirin couldn’t think of a retort. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. Right?”

Murasa didn’t sound too worried. “I hope so?”

They’d spent all day spreading those pamphlets-- sure, some of them might’ve ended up in the gutter-- but there was no mistaking it that there’d hardly be anyone who wouldn’t know of the new years’ sermon. At least not in the village.

“Whatever,” Ichirin groaned. “I’m tired of that fear mongering shrine maiden anyway. What’s to say she’s not just saying all that just to piss us off? Like, what’s even going to happen?”

“Yeah,” Murasa shrugged, tail-coating on Ichirin’s train of thought. “That’s true.”

There was a silent agreement between the two of them, and without even realizing Nue was in on it as well.

Byakuren wasn’t hearing any of this.

 

 

 

 

 

 

A knock, at about midnight. Night had fallen, as it does.

She slid the door open. “Hey, hey, you’re--”

Surprised, Mamizou’s initial reaction was to laugh. “Oh.”

“Sorry.” Shou apologized with a lowered head. “Do you have a moment?”

“Sure, sure.” Despite her usual friendliness, Mamizou didn’t care to hide her questioning expression. “Come in,” She insisted.

Shou complied, although somewhat hesitantly.

“Haven’t seen you around today.” Mamizou was just making conversation. It wasn’t like she was seriously keeping tabs. Everyone was coming and going, sometimes for days at a time. Or well, they might as well be.

She really wasn’t keeping tabs.

Shou didn’t respond, realizing as much.

“Need something?” Mamizou was quick to ask, “If it’s, you know, I can always help.”

“Oh, no, _no,_ ” Shou was just fast to turn her down. “It’s not that. Actually, I ended up making a promise to Hijiri, and,”

“Oh, so you’re going sober?” Mamizou wasn’t about to judge. Quite the opposite. “Good luck with that, then.”

“Oh, no, uh, it’s not that.” Shou coughed. “I’m sorry, you misunderstand. It’s unrelated.”

“Well, I’m all ears.” Mamizou pushed the door to the outside open just a little. She hit her pipe against floor, once, twice. Ashes spilled out. “You mind?”

“Oh, not at all.” Shou responded just as Mamizou lit her pipe, having expected that response.

“I have a bit of a favor.” Shou started, settling across of Mamizou. “And it appears, from what I can tell, I can only ask this of you.”

With a flip of her tail, and a twist of her head, Mamizou turned to look Shou in the eye, acknowledging this was probably something a bit more complex that smuggling booze into the temple.

The smoke slipped outside in the crack between the doors.

It was starting to get cold by the time Shou left. Mamizou put out her pipe, but let the door be open for a little longer.

Their shared two bed guest-room turned permanent residence was quite empty. Nue had never come back after dinner.

Mamizou noted it, but didn’t really worry.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Gangly legs in dark stockings, spindly against the pure white snow, with her feet in summer shoes of nothing but wood and frabric, wet all over.

Her footsteps made no sound in the snow, but her shoes clicked back against her heel as she walked. Both robes she wore over her dress were stolen, worn. One was gray (initially white) the other black. Two shades of purple in familiar checkers tied around her neck, for warmth, and for whatever else it’d be useful for.

 

Seija had been walking towards the river, the part where it’s shallow and pebbles and sand wash up and melt away the snow. However she had turned, trying not to hurry, towards the natural clearing down where the water flows in under the village walls and into the human settlement. Getting closer and closer she could smell the fires of the stoves, burning charcoal and wood. It was risky, but still her safest bet at the moment.

A cold sweat building at the back of neck and a stiff grin on her face, she felt eyes on her back. She swerved sharply, and before she knew it, she was running. That was bad, a bad sign.

The forest indeed cleared up somewhat, and she saw the village walls. Slowing down, she turned, self-consious, trying to not make any large movements. She’d been around here the day before. That was bad too. Coming back had been risky enough, but that much was for granted.

Creeping up along the wall, she leaned up on the cold rock. Dirt under her long fingernails, strained lines under her eyes, she sniffed, keeping her head turned as she moved.

This was all happening faster then she’d expected. And again, that would become true as she heard a crack in front of her, turning her head as fast as she could, but not fast enough. She tore off the nimble fabric with a step backwards, stumbing with her sandals in the snow and before she could regain her footing, she felt cold, hard, smooth iron slam against her throath and the air left her lungs.

Seija hacked loudly, turning her head only to realize she couldn’t. Her head hurt from the impact but getting the air knocked out of her was more disorienting. She thrashed under the weight to little avail, held down by what felt like a knee painfully lodged in her chest, and as her eyesight returned to the harsh white light of a bright winter day, she saw a mouth full with the teeth of a beast, raging red eyes staring her down, radiant with a holy light.

As fear overcame her, the Amanojaku smiled in the face of her adversary.

The hand that grabbed her face was soft, but it’s grip hard against her jawbone, like it could crush her.

_“Amanojaku, revere my name.”_ A woman’s voice. Seija heard it as if was coming from within herself.

Holding her face, pushing it back, staring into her eyes. Seija saw the face of a god, the object of fear in her heart, her own weakness, her own subjugation, transformation.

Tears of pain formed in her eyes, but gleefully she smiled, for she had always been ready to choose death over any such humiliation.

Bishamonten was like in the scriptures, like in her nightmares, and like she had heard him described by the humans who worshipped him all at once. And the trident was in her field of her vision, streching endlessly into the sky where it trapped her between the spears, one on each side of her neck, and it was like nothing she could remember.

_“Well?”_

Seija wheezed, lips throbbing. She could hardly speak with the preassure on her chest. In reality, she was still quite sure this wasn’t actually happening. Head spinning, she managed one sharp breath, full of harsh cold winter air, fire smoke, the smell of tabbacco, all mixing with the pain in her throat.

The thin shadow of the trident fell on her eyes. The weight on her shifted violently, and the iron grip around her neck came loose with a shout.

**“Wh-”**

“Don’t 'cha think it’s kinda weird to ask her stuff if she can’t even breathe?”

**“Hey, what the hell--”**

In rapid succession, the sun was shielded from her view, and with a sharp tug she was freed from the weight on top of her. Reality crumbled swiftly. Seija rolled over and seemed to crash into the ground. She breathed deeply and painfully, feeling unfamiliar warmth near her side, hands grasping at her shoulders, instilling a brand-new fear.

**“What the hell are you doing?”** The same voice as before, and Seija turned weakly in it’s direction.

The pieces of the puzzle fell into place in rapid succession. The magic had been dispelled.

_“No,”_ Mamizou retorted, “What the hell are _you_ doing?”

“Are you okay?" She laughed nervously, too close for Seija's comfort. “I mean, uh, you _are_ okay, right?”

Disturbed, Seija was nontheless quick to speak. “I’m sorry, do I know you?” She mocked, smiling sharply through her pain, still evident on her face despite her struggles.

“Here,” Mamizou handed to her her jar of sake, figuring it self-explanatory.

Mamizou stood, intercepting Nue. “Hey,”

_“I was just going to-”_

“I know.”

Seija struggled to stand. Leaning against the wall she spent a split second wondering if she should drink what she had been offered, realizing she had little to lose at this point. The alcohol burned her throath but it didn’t feel bad. She had never stopped clutching the nimble fabric, and wiping her mouth, she swung her arm, crushing the jar against the rocks with a loud crash.

Mamizou hadn’t had any time to stop her. “...That was uncalled for.”

“Now,” Seija’s voice trembled just a bit. “I’ll just be on my way, if you don’t mind,”

Staggering, hand against the wall, Seija stepped into her shoes, even wetter and colder than they’d been before.

“Not so fast,” Mamizou said, “We’re not quite done here.”

“You’re... Not done?” Seija forced a laugh. “What else do you want from me, huh?”

Nue was still angry. “Oh, don’t act like you don’t know what’s going on!”

“Oh, I’m quite aware.” Seija staggered, smirking. “The two of you quite clearly appear to enjoy it, bullying a defenseless weakling like me. I noticed.”

_“Shut up!”_ Nue snapped. “I know you’re plotting against the temple! Why wouldn’t you?”

“I....” Seija raised her arms in a shrug. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah, like you could’ve avoided learning about the sermon.” Nue sneered. “The way you’re hanging around the village is suspicious enough. I was watching you. Besides, the shrine maiden said you’d definitely cause trouble.”

Seija regained the poise she’d never admit she’d lost. “So, the temple youkai are listening to the shrine maiden now, is that it?”

Disgusted, Seija grimached. “You really have no shame in your body, do you?! _The shrine maiden?”_

“Like you should lecture about shame, you lowlife.” Nue bit back, not wanting to admit her mistake.

“Have some decency and mind your own business.” Seija cracked her neck, pleased when she saw Nue’s angry expression. “And know better than to sell out to the shrine maiden on top of eating out of the hands of the gods.”

Seija shook her head.

“Right,” Mamizou cut in. “Anyway, you can’t pretend like you don’t know any of this, you know?”

A rustle, stealing Seija’s attention away. She saw Mamizou unfold a familiar piece of paper from her sleeve. “You’re aware of what this is, right?” 

Mamizou shook the paper with a flap. “This is yours. I took it of off you just now.”

Seija needed not respond, her expression was enough. That, and the way she reached for her own pocket.

Mamizou stiffled a laugh. “Don’t bother.”

Seija felt the pamphlet through the fabric, and saw red.

“Yeah, I got one too, you know?”

Seija could stand being in pain, but being humiliated was hard on her.

“Hey now,” Mamizou folded up her phamplet. “Never mind my good friend here,”

Seija had been silenced in her anger. Not wanting to run her mouth, she said nothing.

Anyone could be stumped by their emotions, but only idiots run their mouths in a fit of rage.

“The point is, people are bound to be taking notice of you,” Mamizou phrased herself perhaps a bit too carefully.

“You mean like you and your,” Seija looked at Nue, “Good friend?”

_“Listen,”_ Mamizou started walking towards Seija, who got a second adrenaline rush rising to her head through the silent panic. “Stay out of trouble, alright?”

Seija refused to let any fear show. Mamizou and Nue were both so much more powerful than her, any visual representation she could think of wouldn’t quite do it justice. On top of that she was cornered; fundamentally wicked, the Amanojaku is fundamentally suspicious and distrusting.

Seija remembered well Mamizou had helped her out in the past. That didn't change much.

If anything, perhaps that was why Seija wanted so badly to stand up to her. She was smart enough to fear those who could destroy her, but her pride mattered more than her life.

“Is that supposed to be a threat?”

“Hm,” Mamizou humored her by rubbing her chin. “You can think of it as a piece of advice.”

“And you expect me to respond to that, in what way exactly?” Seija knew Mamizou wasn't thick. “Thank you kindly?”

“Not quite. If anything I was expecting a few insincere promises.” Mamizou shrugged. “I guess I really couldn't predict you.”

“So all in all, this was a waste of our time.”

“Perhaps,” Mamizou leaned forward. If she intended to intimidate, Seija wasn't sure. “Perhaps not. It depends on how you take it.”

Seija backed away, her patience wearing thin quickly. “This conversation is over.” She tied the nimble fabric back around her neck, one way all around, messy ribbon in the front.

“Alright. Sure.” Mamizou raised her pipe, relaxed stance.

Seija still hesitated to turn around before she set off.

A moment of silence before Mamizou heard Nue groan.

“Hey,” Mamizou warned her. “What's up with you, huh?”

Nue shook her head. “The Amanojaku's right. This was a waste of time. You should have just let me handle it.”

Leaning on her trident, Nue stared after Seija. “I would have scared her real good. Scared her so bad she'd run right out of town and never even think of coming back.” She sighed.

“It wasn't a complete waste of time.” Mamizou insisted.

Nue stared at her lazily.

She didn't believe her.

 

 

 

 

After a cup of tea and with a charm left on the doorframe, Reimu left the Suzunaan.

Kosuzu had been hesitant, but eventually cooperated. She had the handwritten original script as well as a handful of printed test copies carefully storaged away, and came around to showing them.

“It’s standard procedure,” She insisted, but Reimu was pretty sure printing references normally weren’t storaged alongside the storeowner’s private collections.

The gleam in Kosuzu’s eyes when her hand traced over Byakuren’s handwriting would normally set Reimu off, but she tried to take a deep breath.

She left without saying much of anything on her own end. Maybe she’d made Kosuzu worry, but Reimu had more pressing matters on her mind.

 

 

Byakuren said she’d meet her in one of the side rooms, but they crossed paths already in the hallway outside. Tea had been served inside, but Reimu hadn’t even acknowledged as much. She didn’t have time to sit down. Kyouko had lingered after she put the tray down to try and catch some of the conversation, but when Reimu raised her voice she decided to leave.

“I find it most concerning that I haven’t heard about this until now.” Byakuren tried to steer the conversation.

“Oh? Have you considered why that is?” Reimu wouldn’t let her. “People are scared.”

“I’d prefer it if you didn’t assume such a thing.” Any counter-argument would have been torn down by Reimu.

“Whatever. You know now. I won’t let this fall on me. It’s none of my business.”

“Protecting the well-being of the humans of Gensoukyou is none of your business?” Reimu should have seen that one coming. Maybe it was bait.

“Don’t try to make this into an issue about humans.” Reimu pointed sharply at Byakuren. “I’m not going to through with the trouble of explaining myself to you. You caused this. You take care of it. Fights in-between youkai isn’t something I’m about to waste my time on.”

“You don’t have any proof I endagered humans with my actions.” Byakuren responded firmly.

“So apprently you’re fine with having this on your conscience?” Reimu was starting to think just going out there and solving this all by herself would be less frustrating than trying to convince Byakuren to admit to anything. However principled, Reimu stood strong. “You know I’m talking about the deal with Amanojaku, but you don’t even want to acknowledge that, do you?”

“I did nothing that should have provoked her. We only preach peace.” Byakuren's appeal was relatively convincing.

Reimu didn’t buy it. “It’s the Amanojaku. Her actions don’t necessarily make sense. She doesn’t respond to reason. You should know as much!”

 

 

Someone had heard there’d been needles. Someone else mentioned glass. There'd been rumors of garbage, and even unidentifiable horrors.

The people that had approached Reimu had confirmed sand, rocks, and pebbles.

The winter was hard for many, and the offerings left at the altars and shrines spread in and around the village were common pillage spots for the less fortunate. Reimu hadn’t been able to confirm if someone had tampered only with the food left at the Buddhist altars, but most stories seemed to support the theory.

It had taken a few days to uncover the story. Partly because at first, it might as well have just been a prank, a one-time thing. Partly because people who are forced to eat the offerings left behind to appease the gods usually aren’t very keen on coming forth.

It had originally come to light when a mother had lost sight of her daughter, only to find she had run off to eat the sweets left at the altar they had passed. The little girl had bit into a rock and started crying something awfully. The story spread around and soon other rumors started to surface. Several people had approached Reimu, representing concerned villagers. She'd been suspicious from the very beginning. Lucky for her, the victims hadn't initially assumed this to be the work of youkai; their groundwork to find a human culprit that fit the bill had been crude, but Reimu wasn't picky.

And indeed, once the idea of a youkai culprit had been considered it was as if everyone had seen her all along.

“I saw her between the trees, going into the forest!” An old man who lived across one of the altars had said.

“She looked right at me! I didn't realize what she was, she looked just like a human. But then I saw her hand, it was clawed and so dirty!” A woman who passed the village gates on her way to work had testified.

“There were children playing outside, playing with a ball against the village wall. They were loud so I didn't think much of it at first when they started screaming. I looked over, and saw a girl approaching the kids as they ran off. I thought she was just a bully, but when I saw the look in her eyes I could immediately tell she wasn't human.” A man reported, having seen the scene from his house.

“It was her, it was the Amanojaku! Who else would do something so wicked yet petty?” was the general consensus.

As far as Reimu was concerned, few if any of the stories were actually true-- or if they were, they were unrelated youkai sightings. Reimu could think of a few likely suspects. There were just too many for such a short period of time, even if the sabotage of the offerings had been going on for a while. It was all convenient however, and Reimu gladly accepted the testimonies to build her case.

Whether or not the suspicion had fallen on the Amanojaku based on her motive to target and sabotage the Buddhists due to their advertised new years' day sermon was unclear. If anything, all the circulating news about the sermon had alerted and reminded people of the Amanojaku's existence and nature, making them paranoid.

“How does it feel?” Reimu asked, “To see your ambitions produce the alternate effect of what you wanted?”

“I'm not sure what it is that you're implying.” Byakuren refused to buy into Reimu's rhetoric.

If it was within her capacity, Reimu might've felt bad for Byakuren. “Not even the youkai themselves appear to be fond of your youkai-sympathizing propaganda, clearly.”

Byakuren shook her head, and Reimu could sense her patience slipping away. “We mean to set a good example. Truly, we do. That not everyone can take it to heart is, albeit heartbreaking, not too unexpected.”

“So you admit this is within your responsibility, then?” Reimu pushed.

“As much as I appreciate your concern,” Byakuren hesitated, collecting her words. “I can't help you, I'm afraid.”

“I'll just remind you, in case you've forgotten!” Reimu raised her voice once more, “My job is to keep Gensoukyou clear of the youkai who terrorize humans! And seeing how this conversation has gone this far, I'll be inclined to believe this includes you people!”

The argument, and Reimu's raised voice, had blocked the sounds of footsteps. The thud of wood against wood as Reimu's voice rang out was what caught their attention.

The clouds had cleared up, and water might just start rushing down from the rooftops.

“That's quite a serious allegation, I'm afraid.”

Shou had brought down the end of her staff on the wooden floor.

Reimu's expression was frozen, bitter as she turned to face her, ready to rain it down on her just as she had on Byakuren. “Well, _I'm standing by it.”_

“I don't expect any less.” Shou admitted. “I'll have to agree with Hijiri however.”

Reimu scoffed. “Yeah, of course you do.”

“You misunderstand.” Mild but sharp in what should be an impossible combination, Shou made Reimu double-guess herself.

_“Excuse me?”_

“It's an honest mistake. It must have slipped you by.” Shou shook her head. “Hijiri indeed isn't responsible. The one holding the sermon this year is me.”

Reimu considered how this changed things; if at all.

“Naturally, that is what you meant. Didn't you, Hijiri?” Reimu didn't need to see Byakuren failing to respond to understand what had just happened.

“Of course.” Byakuren's hesitant tone contradicted her words. “Indeed Shou, why don't you have a word with the Shrine Maiden.”

Byakuren had barely time to leave before the words came out of Reimu's mouth. "If you expect me to thank you for getting rid of her, then well.”

“I'd prefer it if you didn't assume such things of me.” Shou warned her. “You'd make me think you really came here just to start a fight.”

“I don't come here for fun, if that's what you're accusing me of.” Reimu wasn't about to let her guard down. “What's your deal anyway?”

“I'm here to tell you what you want to hear.” Shou, with the sheer height of her back, the sharp iris of her eye-- Intimidating at the drop of a hat if she so wished, mildness in her voice present all the same.

Reimu met her eyes, breath held, arms crossed, wordlessly accepting the hidden challenge in Shou's implication.

“I'll take care of the Amanojaku.” Shou said with confidence.

A moment, but no more, did Reimu spend eyeing her with doubt in her eyes. "Oh yeah? That's quite different from what the head nun's been saying, you know.”

“Never mind Hijiri. I insist.” Shou didn't waver.

“Alright then.” Reimu actually smiled. “Fine. But don't think I won't be keeping an eye on you.”

“You doubt me?” Shou would prefer to win a little trust from Reimu, if possible. She realized she might be asking too much.

“I doubt you, for you seem to believe the Amanojaku can be _saved_.” Reimu sneered. “I know I'm known to generalize when it comes to youkai. But even I know she's different. She's more than a lost cause.”

“Hey now,” Shou put her down, “Our methods shouldn't matter to you, should they?”

“I guess I can turn a blind eye this time.” Reimu was more than ready to leave. “Just solve the problem.”

“You have my word.”

Un-crossing her arms, unassuming look in her eyes, Reimu turned her back. “Fine. I'll see to that.”

She left.

 

Shou watched the red ribbon in the landscape of white, but Nazrin didn't bother to wait until Reimu had left the temple grounds.

"You sure about this?" She'd been listening from within the side room, in the shadow cast by the open sliding door.

Shou shook her head.

“Not at all.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Waddling in the snow, curiously sniffing, walking atop the crusted ice. It had since long caught the scent.

Nimble fabric laid atop her head, creating an unusual outline of with the vague bulge of her horns, Seija turned where she sat in the snow. Conversing, humans passed behind her.

Leaning her head just a bit forward, she pretended to pray at the altar.

Darting by, she spotted it in the corner of her eye-- She'd thought it was a squirrel, but it was clearly colored gray like the caking ice.

A rat.

It had traced her steps. Seija didn't dare move. She heard the voices disappear between the buildings, but couldn't properly gauge the distance. The rat passed her, passing in just under her robes, climbing the altar with great ease.

It headed straight for the food, determined.

The voices were barely audible now. With a wave of her hand, Seija shooed the rat. “That's not for you.” She said quietly.

Fast and unpredictable, the rat went around the food, ignoring Seija. “Why,” Seija muttered. “Come here,”

She reached out to grab it, missing the first time as it dashed to the side, succeeding the second time as she rushed to her feet, surprising the rat with her sudden range. The little one froze in her grip. “The food's not for you,” Seija hushed, taking the rat in both hands. “It's for the big guys.”

Seija turned around carefully, to make sure no-one was around. The altar behind her had been cleared of snow, and by it sat a group of three sweet bean buns. It was a rather generous offering, to the point of suspicion. Seija herself had already eaten all the sweet bean paste inside. She'd stolen them earlier that day, from a family home not too far from here.

Her hands had relaxed, and the rat sat in her palms and sniffed her skin. Feeling its breath on her hand, Seija's mind snapped from her plans. Little claws left no mark, and the rat looked back up at Seija when she looked down at it. All black beady eyes, with no words. Seija too needed to form no words. Camaraderie or no, Seija knew instinctively that this creature and herself were alike.

A split second, snow squeaking. Seija thought she heard voices. She faced the altar, and before she knew it, her hand grew piping hot with blood, and then she felt the pain, like a carving knife digging in under her skin. Just between her thumb and her index finger, the rat had bit her hard.

The blood gushed fast, and dripped on to the white snow. Surprised rather than panicked, Seija gripped the wound. She reached for clean snow on the ground, planning to use the cold to stop the bleeding.

“Here,” Above her, a voice rung clear, and Seija's heart became cold like ice.

“You can use this.” In her field of view, a handkerchief, white as the snow.

With little hesitation, Seija whipped her head up. Sharp slit irises, with the imposing stature of a statue, Seija felt the weight of Bishamonten's presence crashing down on her shoulders.

The rat was scurrying away on the ground. Seija felt betrayed if anything.

With a huff she stumbled backwards, without much of a thought. Wordless, Shou extended her hand further.

Considering her options, Seija's head was swimming. As well as she performed under pressure, the situation was unusual.

With the doubt flickering instantaneously in her eyes, she ripped the handkerchief from Shou's hand. She breathed, smiling. “The generous Lord Bishamonten has graced me with his presence, I see.”

“Only by proxy.” Shou corrected her.

Seija wrapped the wound tightly. She had done this many times before.

“Of course.” Seija knew exactly who Shou was.

The silence was brief but pressing. “Taking responsibility for your people. How noble.” Seija jested.

“I'm sorry about that.” Shou admitted to Seija's assumption.

Suspicious, Seija was alert. With a change of the winds and a squeak of the snow, she caught the whiff. All it took was the mere notion she might turn her head. Seija saw Shou noticing, laying her gaze on something behind Seija's head.

“That took longer than I thought it would,” Nazrin admitted, her cover blown. “The food you left behind kept throwing me off.”

It had only taken moments for Seija to realize that Shou wasn't alone. In silence, Shou commended Seija, and sympathized with the Shrine Maiden.

Seija could take a chance with Nazrin and run. She considered it, but couldn't seem to be able to picture it. The nimble fabric could only buy her so much time. Having run her thought process into a dead end, Seija braced for an impact that didn't come.

“So,” Tense, Seija was nonetheless used to these situations. She thrived in them. “What can I do you for?”

“I've come to ask of you to stop sabotaging to offerings left to Lord Bishamonten,” Shou was straight to the point. “That is, if it is indeed your doing?”

There was no way Shou was so simple she'd seriously ask that. Right? “If you're trying to appeal to my sense of goodwill, then you're honestly just going to piss me off.” Seija found no satisfaction in playing along with someone like Shou.

Quite the opposite. “It was me. You're right I did it.”

"So the Shrine Maiden really was right." Shou nodded her head. “Unless you're taking credit for someone else's work.”

“What? You think I didn’t do it?” Seija was starting to get more and more irritated. “And what's with the Shrine Maiden? This doesn't even concern her, does it?”

“That is what she told me as well.” Shou confirmed.

Seija smiled. “I guess she really hates me.”

“And if you want proof I did it,” Seija gestured to the buns she'd just left behind. “It's in the pudding.”

“I think I'll pass.” Shou didn't humor her. “I have reason to believe you. I can't think of any reason you'd be seen here, anyhow.”

Footsteps, and Seija saw Shou's eyes shift.

“Is there anything I can do to make you stop?”

_What?_ “I'm sorry?” Seija could hardly believe what she was hearing. “Would you like to rephrase that?”

“What I mean is, simply,” Seija found Shou's hesitation terribly satisfying. “I thought I should ask.”

"So, you're not here trample me, hold my face to the ground, have me say a prayer in your name?" Seija could have gone on for much longer. The memory from the other day was still fresh.

“No. There's no meaning in an insincere prayer.” Shou's words would have been more grating to Seija if they hadn't surprised her so.

“Nor is there meaning to try and save those who do not wish to be saved.”

“Hmph. Is that how the story went?” Seija grinned. “You'd have to remind me.”

“...You can come to the new years' day sermon if you wish to hear it in its entirety.” Shou offered. ""You'd be very welcome.”

“Don't lie to me. I'd be humiliated if anything.” Seija bit back. Did the temple youkai really not realize that much?

“Then, I shall pray for you,” Shou said, and it was not an offering or a proposition. “Pray for your wicked heart, Amanojaku.”

“Spare me.” Seija replied. “I don't want your prayers. They won't do me any good. I can reassure you.”

“The Hindu pantheon speaks not of Bishamonten but it speaks of Kubera,” Shou drew in a slow breath. “Kubera prayed to Shiva, and he prayed for many years, and his great virtue and patience rewarded him the power over the yaksha.”

“So, who is to say that my prayers won't do you any good?” Shou suggested.

“Well, I am not a yaksha, am I?” Seija said, holding back her frustration. “I am a youkai, and an Amanojaku above even that.”

“They are the same.” Shou said without a hint of doubt. “The yaksha are nor good nor evil, they are defined by their actions, and nothing else. They become the holy servants of the gods, or gods themselves-- Just like the youkai.”

“Even if that meant anything to me," Seija interjected, “You don't have years, or even weeks. You just have a few days.”

“You're quite right.” Shou admitted, “But I'd be prepared to try.”

“I'd love to see you waste your time.” Seija said harshly, who was starting to grow impatient. This conflict wasn't doing much for her, no, she was not having fun, not like she had hoped.

And, there was yet another thing irritating her. She turned sharply. _“Hey, you._ Don't you have anything to say?"

“.....” Nazrin stared back at her.

“Like, are you just going to stand there nice and quiet without a word?” Seija had been waiting for Nazrin to speak up. Maybe say at least something. “Or are you not allowed to speak in your master's presence?” Seija smiled. She was hoping to get a good reaction.

“What?” Nazrin responded without thinking, choking back laughter. “What are you talking about?”

“Just wondering.” Seija wasn’t about to give up. "Since you weren't saying a word.”

“Holding speeches and preaching and all that ain't my job.” Nazrin said firmly. “If anything I'm here to just make sure all goes well. For the sake of Lord Bishamonten.”

“Oh pray tell, what is it like?” Seija buttered up. “Being a cultist, slaving away for organized religion.”

“It's all the same.” Nazrin didn’t allow herself to be provoked so easily. She was used to keeping up a strong front. “It doesn't matter if I'm in Gensoukyou or on Mt. Sumeru.”

She had done both.

“But it seems like you know me quite well.” She added, not sure what to make of it.

“Oh, I know you,” Seija said confidently, “You're like me.”

“Not sure why you'd say that,” Nazrin lied. She had a pretty good idea.

"Yeah, good point." Seija admitted. “What I mean is, I should expect us to be alike. We are both weak, you and I. But we still don’t think alike. You're not interested in anything but securing your role in servitude, are you?”

“Shut up.” Nazrin told her promptly. She'd worked hard to get where she was in life, and she was proud of her livelihood. But she wouldn't share that with Seija so easily. “And I take it you're satisfied living in the bush, living of off scraps, hated by everyone, fearing for your life?”

“You religious fanatics by definition don't understand the importance of integrity, so I don't expect you to understand.” Seija shrugged. She was starting to enjoy herself again.

“You'll pray for me, is that what you got? I feel sorry fot you, if you think that’s going to make me change my mind about anything.” Seija turned back to Shou. “You came to ask me to cease the sabotage but you were the ones who started this, remember?”

“If you came here to crush me into the ground, well, you're wearing my patience thin.”

“I have no plans to do any such thing.” Shou affirmed.

“Why not?” Seija asked, “It sure would be faster than praying a good few years of your life away.”

“....” Shou had no answer, but Seija had more questions.

“You are a god of war, are you not?”

“War is a last resort, not a means to an end.” Shou eyed the altar. “Bishamonten is also the god of generosity. I wish to embody as much of both as I can.”

“If you want me to stop, then you know there’s just one thing you can do.”

Shou lowered her head.

“If you have nothing else to say, then I’d prefer to be on my way.” The conversation so far hadn’t eaxctly been going places.

“I can’t cancel the sermon.” Shou rebutted. “My promise to Hijiri won’t allow it.”

“Well, that’s your problem, now isn’t it?” Seija had no sympathy.

“It’s a long tradition, the new years’ day sermon.” Shou said, “So we can’t just cancel it.”

“Do I look like I care?” Seija wasn’t following. “This is the first year I’ve given you trouble, right?”

“Come on now,” Seija’s smirk came back. She raised her index finger to her temple. “You should be able to figure this out. Don’t be so stiff now.”

Shou had thought about it already. It wasn’t that she hadn’t realized.

“Maybe,” Seija’s voice was now sweet. “We can compromise somehow, you know?”

It was that Shou had no idea how she should do just that; Was there reason in negotiating with the Amanojaku?

“...Alright.” After no more than a few seconds of consideration, Shou agreed. “I’ll do it. I cannot cancel the sermon, but I’ll make sure that you’ll have no reason to continue terrorizing the believers.”

Nazrin had been listening carefully. She had somehow expected this, but Shou’s steadfast response if anything baffled her a tad.

“Oh. Really? You sound quite sure of yourself. But can you in confidence say what’ll please me?” Seija challenged, still not convinced.

“Fine.” Shou admitted. “You tell me, then.”

“What would please you, Amanojaku?”

Now, Seija thrived. She smirked. “Rewrite the sermon! I want the Amanojaku to win over Bishamonten!” She said proudly, “I want the Amanojaku to teach him a lesson, best him!”

“Oh, but remember,” Seija continued, “The Amanojaku must stay in-character, be wicked and scheming. Can you really do that?”

Seija was confident. Confident that Shou could not promise something like that, and if she could, it would be against her will.

And indeed, Shou felt her throath dry up. But she couldn’t back down now. “I’ll see to it.” She said sharply, her frustration starting to grow into anger. “I’ll rewrite the sermon.”

“Seriously?” Seija tested her.

“I’ll see to it.” Shou repeated, with a glare. “Now, begone.”

“Just know I don’t take anyone by their word.” Pleased, and for reason she’d hardly been able to predict, Seija smiled a winning smile. She cackled as she left, passing Nazrin much closer than needed. “I’ll see you at the sermon.”

Nazrin watched her go. To her, the Amanojaku was perhaps a more banal troublemaker, compared to how her colleagues at the temple saw her. She was just a weakling with too much pride and cunning for her own good.

Nazrin could understand that quite well.

Releasing a heavy sigh, Shou relaxed. She approached the altar were the food still laid, untouched, and fell to her knees in the soft snow.

She raised her hands in prayer, silent.

Nazrin stood by her side. “So, how are you going to go about this?”

“I don't know.” Shou said earnestly, unmoving, eyes closed. “For now, I shall pray.”

Nazrin sat by her side, pressing up against her, a shape of warmth in contrast to the cold and joined her in prayer.

The silence was merciful and serene, as a light snowfall came in, and the snowflakes were like shards of light in the air. The minutes passed by unnoticed.

Shou took in the cold air in a deep breath. “I don't have much choice.” She was quick to come to terms with the situation. She had no choice in terms of that either.

“You'll think of something.” Nazrin said. The casual way she said it was most reassuring.

“I'll need your help.” Shou saw no other way.

“Of course.”

The extra futon at the shed in Muenzuka would be warm for another few nights.

 

 

 

 

  
Although Shou and Nazrin were not the first to hear the news, to the surprise and relief of the Shrine Maiden, the temple youkai and last but not least, the village humans, the tampering with the offerings stopped.

Still, people were very suspicious. _Was anything related to the youkai temple safe?_ Was what people wondered. The attendence to the new year’s celebration in general seemed like it would be lower than ever, and the usual festive feelings that embraced the temple the days before new years had been blown away with the wind.

Byakuren hadn’t found out about Nue’s unfulfilled little plan, so she escaped any punishment.

But perhaps due to paranoia, or maybe even the sheer will to do better, or possibly by Mamizou’s suggestion, Nue took things upon herself.

With a human disguise, and with her own money, she bought offerings, and she prayed by the altars. In the snow, and in the cold, all while sneezing and cursing under her breath, but still, she did it.

Extravagant were some of the things she left behind. People were suspicious, but curiosity soon got the better of the villagers.

People were soon approaching the altars again, and while Nue sat in her room at night, cursing her frozen, aching feet, the less fortunate had some of their best meals all year.

“Now, there was no way Hijiri could ever be mad at me!” she’d say, and Mamizou would laugh at how simple she was.

In turn, Mamizou was pleased the single strand of hair she had swiped of off Seija had turned out to be so helpful. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  
_\----And when they stood eye to eye, the Amanojaku did not waver, nor flee._

_Bishamonten stood tall and righteous, voice loud and booming. "Is it indeed the Amanojaku before me, the good for nothing, the most terrible rascal?" He asked._

_“So what if it is?” The Amanojaku asked back. “Will you trample me, crush me below you to elevate yourself, and set an example to others?” It asked._

_Bishamonten was silent for a moment, but then he said, “It is the role of the Gods to deliver judgement and gain blessings. Therefore they are elevated. If you live righteously, if you are to become blessed, you too can become a God.”_

Shou took a breather, a pause. She had the script before her, but she and Nazrin were the only ones to have read it. She could still break her promise, if she so wished. The attendance was meager, but still more than they'd usually get for new years' day. Byakuren was, of course, in the audience. Shou tried to not look directly at her.

 

_“And if you are wicked enough, even a God can fall from grace, and come crashing down from the heavens as nothing but an unsightly monster,” The Amanojaku retorted. “Why, have you not heard the tales they speak of? If you become too preoccupied with passing judgement, trampling those you label non-believers, who knows what will become of you?”_

_The Amanojaku cackled, but Bishamonten held his head high._

_“Then, I shall pray for you,” Bishamonten said. “I will pray so that you may not be so wicked.”_

_The Amanojaku was doubtful and said “What good will that even do? How moronic.”_

_But Bishamonten insisted. “You words were truthful. I will pray for the goodness in your heart, and consider my role as a God not only of war, but also of generosity. I shall pray so that you may one day return to the heavens, Amanojaku.”_

_As Bishamonten fell into prayer, the Amanojaku laughed. The laughter soon died down, because Bishamonten was unmoving and focused in prayer._

_Hours passed, and the Amanojaku watched to make sure that Bishamonten truly prayed like he said he would. However, it soon became bored and left._

_The next day, the Amanojaku returned to where it had met with Bishamonten. There, it saw Bishamonten, unmoving in the very same spot, still engaging in prayer. Snow had fallen atop his head, but he had remained unmoving._

_The Amanojaku was disturbed, and ran away to never again return to that place._

 

Shou hadn't been sure what to expect from the audience. The was nothing but a small shuffle. People were listening with varying degrees of attention. It was a relief to her, in a way. At least no-one seemed upset.

“Thus,” Shou cleared her throat, “We can assume, what, exactly?” A rhetorical question.

“Bishamonten is immensely powerful and capable.” Shou put weight in her words. “He is powerful but he is also graceful. But more importantly, he knows of the extent of his powers very well.”

“We must always remember our own power.” A brief pause. Shou tried to gauge Byakuren's reaction in the corner of her eye. “Bishamoten is strong enough to crush anyone. Does that mean he should?”

“The Amanojaku is wicked, but weak. In the face of Bishamonten it is powerless. There are many such youkai in Gensoukyou. Does that mean we should crush them, subjugate them, turn them against themselves?” Shou felt a surge of confidence when the audience shifted, attention increasing.

**“No,”** She said, firmly. “It's easy to start thinking in that manner, but we mustn't. The strong need to be kind.”

“Of course, this applies not only to strong youkai or to the gods, or the saints. Say the human for example, as her fish is stolen from her by a stray cat. If you catch the cat, it is so easy to do more damage upon it than it ever could to you. Yield to the temptation, and remember your strength.”

Another pause. A meaningful one.

_“Know the power you have over others, no matter whom or what it may be.”_

 

The following silence signaled to people that the sermon was over. Shou sought the eyes of those few who were still paying attention as the shuffle to leave the hall started spreading. She bowed her head, and humbly thanked the audience.

Shou didn't rise from her seat for a while. Nazrin came from behind the partition, and they conversed in a hushed tone. Nazrin was carefully optimistic about the results.

Byakuren approached Shou later, outside.

“Congratulations. The sermon appears to have been a success.”

Shou wasn't sure exactly how much she should take to heart, but a smile came upon her face regardless. “Thank you. I, I hope it was acceptable.”

"It was.... Different from what I expected." Byakuren admitted. Nazrin stood in the shadow Shou cast across the wall. Byakuren acknowledged her with a glance. “I'll admit I had my doubt when you started diverging from the original. But you managed to wrap things up very nicely.”

Sermons are meant to be idealistic, simple. They're not meant to be realistic, quite the contrary. They are inspire people to do and be better, not tell people what life is really like, or how complex things are. That is just disheartening. However, Shou felt satisfied knowing she'd found something to preach that she felt rang true beyond just the carefully constructed scenarios of the sermons.

To her, Bishamonten's largest blessing had been his generosity, his grace. If not for that, she wouldn't wield half the power she had, she wouldn't be a fraction as accomplished as she was, and she'd be very alone. To say that Nazrin alone was indispensable to her would just be the beginning, and the last few days hadn't been an exception.

“That is a relief to hear.” Shou wondered if Byakuren had caught on with her deal with the Amanojaku. “I cannot take all the credit on my own though. Nazrin was a great help, especially considering I had little time.”

“Oh please.” Nazrin shrugged, her smirk betraying her words. “It was nothing.”

“Oh, I'm sure.” Byakuren played along. “No-one knows Lord Bishamonten's blessings quite as well as you, after all.”

Byakuren herself didn't even know how true her words rang. Shou was probably the only person who'd ever been told, a long long time ago, about the story of the forest rat with nothing to her name but a jaded, twisted view of the world, only to find herself at feet of a merciful god.

Seija had been right about that, too.

After their meeting, Shou felt a strange reverence for the Amanojaku. Wise was perhaps not the word she'd use, but for someone who was so twisted, she surely seemed to hold her feet planted firmly on the ground. Her courage and her perception were admirable. Shou couldn't find it in herself to hate her, but if that was due to her own virtue or the Amanojaku's wicked charms, she could not say.

“I can see you've taken this chance to redeem yourself quite seriously,” Byakuren admitted to Shou.

There it was. “Ah. Yes.” Shou had not much else to say.

To keep your own mistakes in mind was also a virtue. Shou had been so stressed about everything she'd forgotten. She'd struggled, and she'd do well remembering why. Perhaps.

It would be a while longer before she’d succumb to the bottle. Or at least get caught doing it.

Lest she’d be ready to make it up Byakuren all over again.

 

 

 

 

  
It was well into the afternoon. Nazrin had left to make tea, and Shou was left alone, tired out of her mind.

The new years' celebrations had naturally continued into the early morning, and then she had only gotten a few hours of sleep before the sermon at seven.

Still, the first new day of the year was fresh, the air was light and the skies were clear. She was ready to leave the old year behind her, finally. She'd been working into the last moment.

When Nazrin came up on the porch, and set the tray down, Shou couldn't avoid to notice what she'd come carrying.

“Oh, what's this?”

“You tell me.” Nazrin replied cryptically.

Other than a pot and two cups, there was a package wrapped in newspaper and tied with string upon the tray. "The Yamabiko said it had been left at the gate. She said it's for you."

“For me?” Shou took the package in her hands as Nazrin poured the tea. She couldn't find any clear indication that the package was for her.

It came open easily. And there sat four pieces of new years' mochi.

“Oh! This is perfect for the tea.” Shou laughed. “What a coincidence.”

“I think I'll pass.” Nazrin shook her head, laughing too.

Shou agreed with a nod, and rose her cup to drink. It was hot, too hot, but it did her good in her fatigued state.

Murasa and Ichirin came noisily into the yard, and spotted them through the open doors in the main room.

“Oh hey, there’s mochi left?!” Murasa was so quick to notice, it was almost unreal. “That’s not fair! I had no idea!”

“It’s not our mochi.” Nazrin said, intentionally vague.

“Hey Ichirin, catch!” Murasa had already grabbed two, throwing one to Ichirin who caught it eagerly.

_“You probably shouldn’t eat that--”_ Shou cut herself off. Now that some of the mochi was gone, she saw hand written ink on the newspaper pages.

Absorbed, she pulled the sheet out from under the food that had been served upon it.

Ichirin had already bit into the mochi, her face twisting in terror immediately. With her breath caught in her throat she sprayed sand everywhere.

“Wha- _hahat?”_ Murasa stared wide eyed. _“Are you for real?!”_

Nazrin laughed heartily.

 

 

It was hard to read the smeared ink on the month-old issue of Bunbunmaru, the handwriting was that of someone who hadn’t learned the letters, but rather mimicked them from a sample.

It read;

_“You did ok_

_\- Heaven”_

  
Shou smiled weakly.

She looked at the signature.

Heaven, as in the three heavenly treasures, namusan.

Heaven, as in the twelve heavenly devas, Bonten, Taishakuten, Suiten, Bishamonten, Enmaten, Katen, Rasetsuten, Ishanaten, Futen, Nitten, Gatten, Jiten.

Heaven, as in the heavenly evil spirit, the Amanojaku.

 

Shou raised her face just in time to see Ichirin run towards the well, Murasa at her tail.

“Idiots,” Nazrin breathed with a smile on her lips.

She nodded in Shou’s direction. “What’s it say?”

“Oh, this?” She gestured to the letter, if it could be called that.

“It says that,” Smiling, Shou folded the paper up, sticking it in her sleeve.

“This was a humble offering, from the heavens.”

“...A blessing?”

Shou nodded.

“Yes.”

 

 

 

 

The End

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Huppa here. Hello!! It's already been a full year since I published something on Ao3. Last time was, just like this time, for the Secret Santa.
> 
> 2016 has been a very turbulent year for me, and in terms of Touhou, I haven't had much time to work on fanfics. Instead I've been working on cleaning up and redoing the ULiL translation, and also importing, scanning and cleaning WaHH so, I can't exactly say it's been a waste of my time either. I miss writing a lot though, so I had been looking forward to doing the Secret Santa all year since then I'd have the perfect excuse to write. Like last year I had a lot of fun, I honestly can't stretch this enough. I also feel like I learn a lot, working with prompts, and under a pretty tight time-limit as well. I did most of the work during about a week and a half, and while I've done all I could to try and tell as much of a story as possible in as few words as possible... This turned out much longer than I had planned.
> 
> It's been a very strange fall-winter for me, I have been busier than ever. I lost my apartment short notice, moved twice in a month, and it's been like one crisis after another. Which is another reason I'm happy I could do the Secret Santa because I've been feeling out of touch with Touhou lately. I've just been too busy, and when I'd have time there'd always be something else demanding my attention. My Ipod that I have all my Touhou arrange music on also broke, and I still hadn't set up my old HDs when I finally got the new one in the mail, so while doing my brain storming walks for the story I've been listening to Britney Spears and Adele. The music's fine but, honestly!! It's not what I wanted.
> 
> It's weird but even when other things are on my mind, I miss Touhou. And it was great to be able to have an excuse to write a story like this one again.
> 
> As for the story, most of the conceptualization was brought from the fact that I wanted Shou to look good. I wanted to portray her serious and capable side, but also her kind and emotional side. It's the combination of all those traits that makes her one of my favorites, and there aren't too many fan works out there that're focused on her in the first place. The reason I picked a bishamonten vs amanojaku story specifically was also because I just really wanted to write Seija. I've had a lot of ideas for her in the past but never got to writing any of them. Writing Seija is... great, honestly, since you can never just go with the flow of the conversation. Seija hates that. In her case, I wanted to focus on her bravery. She is afraid, very much so, but she overcomes it. That, and I wanted to show that she's very capable despite being weak.
> 
> After building up a scenario where Shou and Seija meets as enemies, I ofc also had to think of a way to resolve it. In the end, the only way I could see it end was with a peaceful resolution. How could I make Shou look good if she were to trample Seija, who'd be defenseless against her? Or, who knows, maybe I just like Seija too much to put her through something like that. That and well, I thought a full out fight between them wouldn't be very Touhou-like. Also I realize now, seeing as the Amanojaku only gets more motivated by resistance, Shou's choice of trying to agree to her terms makes sense, I guess?
> 
> The reason I'm so busy in December is because I'm going to stay with my parents starting the 22nd and on the 26th I'm going to Japan to visit my brother. It didn't even hit me until the story was finished that I'm actually going to be in Japan for the new years. Huh!! It feels so strange after I've spent all my free time either planning the trip or writing this story, which is all about the Japanese New Years'.
> 
> At the time of writing these notes, it's the 19th of December, 4am. So it's a bit early for me, but for you, kapiten70 all my friends in the future: With love, Happy Holidays, Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!!
> 
> Like last year I'd also like to give big thanks to amemenojaku and purple-scales for organizing this great event so diligently! Like so many others, I'm more than ready to leave 2016 behind me. Not to get sentimental, but hey!! See you guys on the other side. Let's try and make 2017 a bit better, together.


End file.
